


Markings

by Restitutor_Orbis



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hints of Smut, and no one will take this away from me, moiraine is a god damn tease, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis
Summary: Moiraine likes the markings Perrin left behind from a restful night. He does, too, but he can not help but worry of others seeing it. Moiriane does not mind, all too much. (She does swear she'll get rid of them...at a certain point.)
Relationships: Perrin Aybara & Moiraine Damodred, Perrin Aybara/Moiraine Damodred
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Markings

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where this starts or where it is in the canon world. I don't know. Let me just somewhat-sin in peace. Thank you!

Perrin watched as the comb slid easily through the locks of Moiraine’s hair, rolling over the waves; he watched as she rose her hand up and down, slow and easy, over and over again until he lost count. She wore a long tunic, falling well passed her thighs, and it hung loose around her. There were moments when she rose to grasped at dark brown locks and the tunic would slip down her shoulder, revealing pale skin which practically shimmered under the long, faint bars of sunlight streaming through the window.

A flush rose to his cheeks when he realized that he was staring – though he had already became acquainted with the woman’s figure, he was always memorized by her. And he did not know if he was scared or not by that.

Shifting a little, the mattress creaking and groaning beneath him, Perrin was all to well aware of his nudity beneath the heavy sheets. The inn’s room was cool, the morning air rolling through the window dainty, chilling the warmth on his cheeks. It was not too small, enough to fit a wide enough bed that Perrin was not uncomfortable with. A small wooden chair was propped up against the far side of the room, near the door, and a dresser was nestled near to the bed, at its right, with a circular mirror edged with darkish steel, resting on top it. It was there where Moriaine sit, humming; and where Perrin watched, quietly.

There was a certain beauty seeing the Aes Sedai enthralled in mundane matters, even when it was as simple as brushing hair. A smile formed at his lips, and something warm shifted in his heart, and something warm shifted somewhere lower, as well.

“You’re staring, again,” said Moriaine, tearing Perrin away from his thoughts with a voice as clear as summer air, and as sharp as winter’s bite. Yet there was a smile on her lips, the slightest twerk upward, and a gentle light glimmered within those brownish eyes, touched with the hints of amber. Even the smoothness of her features, which often reminded him so much of the Power, only seem to a lit those eyes, to burn gentle with words unspoken.

The warmth washed over him like watery flame. Tearing his eyes away from the pearly pale skin, which Moiriane made no effort to fix, he coughed into his hand. The bed groaned low when he shifted again, and the warmth from before did not ebb away as he wished. It seemed it was more incline to grow stronger. _You thick-headed fool,_ he thought. Words were hard to get passed his heavy tongue, seemingly weighed like leaden. “I’m, uh, sorry.” Another cough raked out of his throat.

From the corner of his eye, Perrin saw her continue combing her hair, fingers slipping through locks as it followed the comb. He could practically feel the softness against his palm, and his fingers itched to have it within his hold again. He had always wanted to be gentle, but there was something in Moiriane, the soft and sharp inhale of breath, that called for him to not try to hide his strength. _She said she could take it,_ he reminded himself, as his blush crawled down his neck and over his chest. He still remembered the sting of her nails when they dug deep through his curling chest-hair and into his harden skin. _She could take it_.

“No need to apologize, Perrin.” Though her eyes were focused on the comb, he knew that she was staring at him. One of her many talents that unnerved him, far more then even a Trolloc. Moiriane did not speak afterwards, only returning to humming.

His head turned without his knowledge, and he could not help but stare once more at the woman, so small, yet so much larger than her stature gave her credit for. A force and presence that could shake the foundations of mountains. Her long, dark brown rolled down to the small of her back, and locks framed her face to fall near her collarbone, where bluish-purple marks riddled over her neck. The sight made his blush even stronger.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Should you not try to get rid of those?”

Her eyes rested upon him, seeing him and within him, though the coolness of the stare was hampered by the warmth that danced deep within, like a budding fire of gold and crimson. “Rid of what?”

“Don’t try to play coy,” he said, gruffly – as gruff as he could with his face surely being as red as Rand’s hair. “You know what I’m talking about, Moiraine.”

She tilted her head a little to the side, though her smile never wavered. It was almost teasing...almost. “I do not know what you’re talking about, Perrin. Speak plainly.” The statement was as much as a command, touched with a hint of tease near unfamiliar to him.

“Light, woman, the marks!” He throw his arm over his head as he rested against the puffed feather pillows. Lifting it only a little, he frowned. “Should you not try to at least hide them?”

Absentmindedly, Moiriane traced her finger over one. Perrin knew there was nothing absentminded about it. There was nothing the woman did that she did not think twenty-five steps ahead of, and weighed each one perfectly. “I rather like them,” said Moiriane, as much to herself as to him. “Perhaps I will keep them, only for a little while.” Her full lips tugged into an alluring smile, revealing perfect white teeth, as shimmering as a spring sun, and more captivating.

He shot up from the bed. “Don’t play games,” he grunted, eyes narrowing at the woman.

“I’m not.” The smile never left her lips, nor did the glimmer within her eyes.

Rising from bed, Perrin strode toward the woman, for a moment the awarness of his lack of small clothes forgotten. Distinctively, he saw the flicker of Moiriane’s gaze from between his legs, to his chest, and then back up to his eyes. It could had been little more than a second or two, and he ignored it, as much as he could; he had never felt being so warm before. Perhaps, saved certain situations. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of images revolving around Moiriane, in even less clothing that she wore now.

The Aes Sedai stared up at him, her body half-turned, and the comb in her right hand. The smile never shifted, never lost its meaning that eluded Perrin. In a way, her smile only seemed to grow, more wicked, more sweet.

For a few moments, he merely stood there, standing above the short woman, staring down at those eyes touched with amber. His fingers itched to pull back a strand of loose brown hair; they itched to wrap around that small waist of hers. It was not impossible; he had done it before, when the woman was laid fully opened for him on the bed…

 _Stop it,_ he growled at himself.

“They’ll have to go, before anyway sees you,” he warned. A small part of him wished it did not have to go, that it would stay and remind anyone who dared looked at Moiriane that she was his, now and always. But he pushed that feeling down. There was danger leaving them open for the world to see, he knew. But she did look beautiful like that, marked by him, figure draped in his shirt. She smelt of rose-scented soap.

She stood as gracefully as the sun rose from the eastern horizon. “And what of these?” asked Moiriane in a voice no louder than the patter of water in a creek, her fingers splaying over his chest, lightly rising up his neck. A finger traced over his skin, cool and yet warm. He was sure that his face was burning, and that she could very well see it. _Her marks, you fool!_ Moiriane was not one to leave another unattended when it came down to it.

Once more, like so many times, he was lost with words. “I..um...you’ll...you’ll have to be rid of them as well.”

“Yet they are so beautiful, aren’t they?” That smile of hers turned to a devious smirk. “I have half-a-mind to keep them where they are.” She look toward the side, toward the window where the wind came soft and sweet. “And we have more than enough time...” Her eyes returned to his, smoldering with that fire, growing rapid. “Perhaps we can add a bit more.” Trailing her finger slowly down, he hissed as he felt her nail gently scratch him. Down and down it went, through the curls on his skin, and even further down they went. He gasped as her other hand reached up for his hair, tugging him down, and gasped when he felt those cool hands wrap around him. Her lips were little more than a grass-strand away. “Shall we, _Perrin?”_

And he could only remember the growl that formed at the back of his throat, his hands wrapping around her waist easily, and lifting. Lifiting, and the warmth, softness of Moiraine’s legs wrapping about his waist as he crashed their lips together in a hungry, searing kiss that stroke the blood hot within him.

_Damn Aes Sedai and their Power._


End file.
